


All The Better To See You With

by A_Lesbian_With_Pink_Hair



Series: What Big Eyes You Have [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ableist Language, Alternate Universe, M/M, Mates, blind!Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-17
Updated: 2012-11-17
Packaged: 2017-11-18 21:38:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/565561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Lesbian_With_Pink_Hair/pseuds/A_Lesbian_With_Pink_Hair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Derek has to deal with the fact that his mate is a blind teenager, and learns to really see Stiles instead of just looking at him. There's more to a person than what they can't do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All The Better To See You With

**Author's Note:**

> The second installment of my blind!Stiles 'verse. Hope you like it!
> 
> EDIT: Warning! in this fic Derek uses ableist language for a while. You have been warned.

One day, Derek meets his mate. His mate is Stiles Stilinski. It’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to him.

When a werewolf meets their mate, they know. The wolf under their skin howls with joy, flesh calling out to touch and mark and claim the person who will be their better half for the rest of their life.

And it’s not exactly like a soulmate sort of deal. It’s just closer to what real wolves do. They seek out the best possible mate and then… they mate with them. If Derek had stayed in New York, his mate probably would have been someone else entirely. Not… not this boy. Not in this awful town where the air is like ash in his mouth and at every waking moment he feels his home being burned away repeatedly.

Naturally, because this is Derek’s lot in life, Stiles is the worst mate Derek could have had. Stiles is annoying and nosy and useless, doesn’t stop moving around like a jittery child, worst of all, he’s crippled. Blind.

Derek’s mate is the Sheriff’s blind, gangly, teenaged kid.

Derek has nothing against disabled people, no more than able-bodied people. But he’s a werewolf, not a babysitter. His mate is supposed to be someone that complements him, someone that makes what’s good about him great and covers for the parts of him that are lacking.

But Stiles… he’s the one that’s lacking, and he’ll never be even close to Derek’s equal, and Derek can never accept that this useless brat is for him.

—

So Stiles is kind of brave, in a really stupid way. He’ll give him that. When Scott and Stiles dig up the half of Laura’s body that he’d buried and told the Sheriff, Derek hadn’t expected Stiles to get in the car and mouth off at him.

He hadn’t expected the words “I’m not afraid of you.”

And he certainly hadn’t expected those words to be true.

It’s a little impressive.

But it’s not enough.

—

Derek gets himself shot chasing the alpha, who stupidly went after Kate Argent.

There was a time when Derek had been devastated that she wasn’t his mate, wasn’t the one he was going to be with forever, but that time has long since passed and now there’s a wolfsbane bullet lodged in his left arm ticking down to the moment when the poison reaches his heart and kills him.

—

He goes to the high school to try and find Scott, to try and get help from his only option. He has a moment of horrible realization: he has no one else. He is forced to rely on a bratty, thick-headed high-schooler because there is no one else in the world that might be willing to help him. That hurts almost as badly as the bullet.

He asks a boy in the hallway where Scott it; the boy, a total douchebag, doesn't help him one bit. Derek accidentally sinks his claws into the back of the guy's neck, enraged. 

Finally, after the final bell rings and students rush through the hallways to go home, he spots Stiles, standing out front. Derek drags himself over to the kid.

"Stiles," he rasps. "Where is Scott?"

The blind boy furrows his eyebrows. "Erm. Derek? Are you okay? You sound a little growly. And not like human-growly. Scott's pulling the car around; I hate walking through busy parking lots. What happened to you?"

Derek, shaking with pain and rapidly weakening, leans against Stiles, who jumps at the touch. At that moment, a car pulls up in front of the steps and Scott leans out the window.

"Dude! What the hell is wrong with you? You look like you're dying."

"I am. I was shot." He rests more of his weight on Stiles; he's having trouble breathing and standing at the same time.

"Why aren't you healing?" Stiles asks. Derek is slightly impressed that Stiles identified that problem so quickly. Scott is still looking confused and a little lost.

"It wasn't a normal bullet," Derek grunts. "You have to find another bullet like it, and fast."

Scott frowns. "Why should I help you?"

"Because you still need me and I'll die if you don't."

Scott is convinced by this. He was going over to the Argent's house anyway, some kind of stupid study date with their daughter. The remaining problem is where Derek and, for whatever reason, Stiles should waiting in the meantime.

Stiles actually offers to drive Derek’s car, saying that if Derek tells him when to turn and stop, claims he can do it just like his and Scott’s video games. Derek sort of admires Stiles’ willingness to endanger himself for the protection and care of others. That loyalty is an excellent feature in a pack member, and the fact that he’d trust Derek not to let him crash the car is amazing in and of itself.

Trust isn’t something Derek has experienced from either end since Laura left.

Ultimately though, Scott drops the pair of them off at the closed animal clinic, promising to be back with the bullet as soon as he can.

“As soon as he can” turns out to be several hours later. Several hours during which Stiles does not shut up. It seems like it's a nervous habit; talking to fill an uncomfortable, awkward silence. He babbles about werewolf things he found on the internet, asks which are true and which are not, occasionally talks about his dad and seemingly just about everything that pops into his mind. Derek is pretty sure Stiles doesn't usually babble like this, but in all honestly doesn't really blame him for being freaked out.

“So I read that female werewolves have a way higher pain tolerance than males, does that have anything to do with the fact that women are the ones that have babies?" Stiles asks, apparently recalling every single page of research he found on the internet the night before. "When you’re born a werewolf do you come out all furry or does the transformation start later?” the boy pauses only for breath. “Scott said his eyes glow yellowish-gold, do yours glow too? Are they a different color than Scott’s?”

Derek sighs and mumbles, “Yes, no, and yes, mine are blue.”

“Why are they blue? Is it a born werewolf versus turned werewolf thing? Oh, and back to girl wolves for a second, are your alphas usually male or female?”

It’s irritating and Derek wonders fleetingly if there’s a god and if said god really hates him enough to bestow a mate this aggravating upon him like a plague.

Then another wave of pain crests and he thinks he might not have to worry about that for long.

But then there’s always Plan B because he’s sure as hell not going out without a fight.

Not yet.

—

Stiles calls Scott.

"Dude, come on, I can't stay here all night! What am I supposed to do with him?"

Derek glares pointlessly at the boy who obviously can't see him.

"Oh, and by the way, he's starting to smell."

" _Like what?_ " Scott asks over the phone.

"Like _DEATH!_ "

Derek snatches the phone away after that and yells at Scott before hanging up.

\--

The pain is so immense, so stifling, so consuming. He feels it in every cell of his body, from the hair on his head to the soles of his feet. It’s a throbbing ache that’s undoubtedly going to kill him, and soon. His vision is swimming, and he hears Stiles texting Scott for a third time.

“Input text message,” the phone chirps.

“Hurry up. Derek doesn’t look so good,” Stiles says to his phone, unnervingly calm.

“Your message says: Hurry up. Derek doesn’t look so good. Is this correct?”

“Yes.”

“Input recipient.”

“Scott McCall cell.”

“You said: Scott McCall cell. Is this correct?”

Stiles sighs. “Yes.”

“Message sent.”

Derek watches Stiles pace around the exam table through heavily lidded eyes.

“’s that get annoying?” he asks quietly.

Stiles shakes his head. “Not really. You get used to it.”

It’s quiet for a minute. Then:

“d’s it ever get lonely?”

Stiles says, “No.”

Even through his agony, Derek hears that it’s a lie.

—

Scott takes too long, and after 20 minutes of threatening/convincing, Stiles almost cuts Derek's arm off. Just as Stiles stops freaking out long enough to feel where Derek wants him to cut and the bone saw starts buzzing, Scott shows up with the bullet.

"Thank GOD," Stiles gasps, dropping the saw onto the table quickly. "You just saved me from a lifetime of horrible nightmares, dude."

Scott gives the bullet to Derek. Derek examines it for about two seconds before dropping it and passing out.

—

He wakes up with a punch to the face. Stiles is leaning over him shaking his hand and hissing in pain; Scott is somewhere off to the side looking especially triumphant.

“Oh thank god, you’re alive,” Stiles mumbles as Derek gets up and takes the bullet from Scott. He uses his teeth to yank the casing apart, spills the powdered wolfsbane onto the table, and lights it on fire.

Derek presses the ashes into the wound, yells as he falls to the floor, the antidote taking its painful effect. Scott watches, horrified. Stiles’ reaction is delayed; he can’t see what Derek is doing but he can hear the man scream. As soon as the screaming starts, the blind boy flinches and mostly looks concerned.

When Derek gets up, finally healed and no longer in pain, Stiles goes, "That. Was. AWESOME." Derek ignores him.

For a moment, everything seems like it’s fine. Scott’s properly worried about him. But then he opens his mouth, like he knows a damn thing about what the Argent family is capable of, as if he could possibly understand. Scott doesn’t know loss. Scott doesn’t know what it’s like to fall in love with someone and have them tear down his world.

So Derek and Scott drop Stiles off at home and go to the hospital where Peter is.

Derek’s not good with words. He was terrible back before the fire, before Kate, and now he’s even worse. He doesn’t want to talk. He doesn’t want to be understood. He wants revenge for his family, he wants to find out what killed Laura and get rid of it so he can go back to his lonely existence. At least, he had wanted that. Now he’s not so sure what he wants.

He doesn’t have the words to explain to Scott what he’s looking at when he looks at the semi-catatonic man that used to be Derek’s uncle, but he tries.

“This is Peter Hale,” Derek says quietly. “My uncle. The only survivor of the fire.”

Scott asks if Peter is a werewolf.

“He was. Now he’s barely even human.”

Scott is quiet for a little while. He’s thinking about what he should do and it’s obvious he wants to talk to Stiles about it. The thing about Scott, Derek realizes, is that he’s trying so hard to do the right thing but it takes him a little while to figure out what the right thing even is.

He also realizes that, even though Derek hates it, Scott has a mate too. The Argent girl. She is the child of the hunters and, inevitably, she will cause Scott so much grief.

For the first time Derek finds himself wishing the alpha had gotten to Stiles instead.

—

Sometimes the wolf pines for Stiles like a hurt animal seeking safety. Derek hates it, hates how much his wolf wants to rely on the blind teenager.

The wolf isn’t a separate entity. It doesn’t have a mind of its own. Listening to the wolf is sort of like the idea of listening to one’s heart; it’s just a sense. Derek is the wolf and the wolf is Derek.

Derek isn’t very happy with the idea that even subconsciously he’s chosen Stiles.

But to be fair, consciously he picked Kate, and that could have gone a lot better than it did.

The last time Derek tried to love someone his world got burnt away. He doesn’t really want to try it again.

But his wolf knows that it’s better with pack, better with a mate, better when you’re not all alone.

Derek isn’t sure he agrees.

—

Stiles is apparently a better teacher than Derek. He’s already a better werewolf than Scott. In one afternoon, Stiles teaches Scott better control than Derek did over almost an entire week.

Derek is getting frustrated with Scott, because Scott isn’t listening. The boy is unwilling to learn just because he doesn’t like that Derek has to say about Allison. But Stiles didn’t have a problem; Stiles knows how to talk to Scott, how to get Scott to do what he needs. Derek thinks maybe he’ll go talk to Stiles about Scott’s training.

One night when the Sheriff isn’t home he goes to the Stilinski house and climbs in through Stiles’ window where he promptly gets slammed in the side of the head with a baseball bat. It probably would have knocked out a regular human.

“Okay, look, I don’t know who you are but just because I’m blind doesn’t mean I can’t kick your—“

“Stiles!” Derek snarls, rubbing his head and glaring. He knows Stiles cannot see the glare. It makes him feel better nonetheless. “It’s me.”

“What—why the hell did you think climbing in my window was a good plan without even KNOCKING?” Stiles drops the bat and crosses his arms, shaking his head disparagingly.

“It was unlocked!” Derek exclaims.

“It’s unlocked for Scott! We have a secret knock so I know it’s him! If you don’t knock, you get hit with the bat! Why did you think sneaking up on a blind kid was a good plan!?”

Derek’s eyes are glowing blue in the dark, and Derek wonders if Stiles would be afraid if he could see them.

He hopes not.

—

When the alpha pierces him through the chest in the school parking lot and he’s coughing up blood, he finds himself looking at Stiles’ wide honey-brown eyes.

He knows Stiles cannot see him, can’t see the blood gushing from his mouth, can’t see the monster’s huge claws rip through his flesh like it’s just paper.

Derek feels himself slipping into a very restful sleep and thinks maybe this is it and he’s so glad that Stiles isn’t able to see him die.

—

He’s not dead. It’s actually pretty shocking to him that he isn’t dead, considering the whole alpha-claws-in-my-chest-cavity thing, but he wakes up.

And when he realizes there are police cars stationed at his burnt-down house, apparently he’s a murder suspect. Again. And it’s Scott’s fault. Again.

 _And to think_ , Derek muses, _the alpha could have bitten something a little more useful than Scott. Like a potato._

—

The alpha is Peter, and the first thing Peter does after Derek makes this discovery is go after Stiles. Derek isn’t sure if Peter knows about Stiles being his mate or what, but it doesn’t really matter.

The instinct to protect his defenseless, unseeing mate is overpowering and it gives him enough strength to let Stiles escape.

—

Peter kills Kate.

Derek doesn’t try to stop him. He’s glad.

For a split second, all the guilt is gone.

It comes back. It always finds its way back.

But for just a moment, he was _free._

—

Derek wants to see Stiles so badly after they kill Peter and he becomes the alpha. His instincts are in overdrive—form a pack, protect the pack, be with your mate, take care of your mate.

So he bites Jackson simply because he asks. He bites Isaac, who is brave despite how badly he’s been hurt, he bites Erica, who doesn’t understand that what makes her a good wolf is her refusal to give up, he bites Boyd who’s so smart and powerful but so lonely it aches.

They’re his pack but Scott still refuses him and if Scott doesn’t want to be pack, then Stiles definitely won’t.

—

Stiles keeps Derek afloat for two hours in a school swimming pool. Erica is unconscious for all of it, which is a little concerning to be honest. Something that can knock a werewolf unconscious for over two hours is a serious threat.

Overall, it reminds him of the time Stiles sat with him while they waited for Scott to retrieve the wolfsbane bullet. Partially because they’re stuck together alone for a long time, but also partially because while Stiles can’t talk as much as he’d like, he keeps nervously asking questions about where the monster is and how far his fallen cellphone is from the edge of the pool.

“Don’t you dare let go of me!” Derek tries to sound scary, but mostly just sounds waterlogged.

“Don’t start with me, Derek, okay? I’m the one keeping you alive!” Stiles answers. “The annoying little blind kid. How many inches exactly would you say the phone is from the edge, again?”

“You need me. That’s why you’re not letting me go.”

“Just tell me, Derek. I’m not gonna let you die.”

That’s kind of comforting. Sort of. He’s unwilling to admit that if he had to be stuck in this situation, he’s glad it’s with Stiles.

—

Stiles lets go of him.

Somehow that hurts.

Derek lets his eyes slide shut and hopes drowning is less painful than burning.

—

Arms slip around his waist and drag him up to the surface and Derek wheezes for air, inhaling as deeply as he can.

“Tell me you got Scott,” he gasps.

“Not so much,” the blind boy replies.

They wait until Stiles just can’t swim anymore and even as they're sinking, Stiles is trying to push Derek up, out of the water and just when Derek is regretting not telling Stiles the truth, about how the wolf feels, he’s being yanked back to life and out of the pool by a wolfed-out Scott McCall.

—

“Is it like us?” Scott asks, arms crossed.

Derek replies, “It’s… a shapeshifter, yes, but it’s different. It’s…”

Stiles says, “An abomination.”

Somehow that hurts, too.

—

When the final battle is over, everyone splits off into pairs.

Erica and Boyd are still gone, and maybe they’ll come back, and maybe they won’t.

Scott and Allison are breaking up and everyone knows it, but they’ll find their way together again. They’re mates, after all.

Jackson and Lydia are holding each other still, Jackson shocked just to be alive. Peter sidles off and goes with Isaac back to the Hale house which is safe for the first time in a long while.

“Derek?”

Derek turns. Stiles is standing, fists clenched at his side, and Derek moves over to him.

“Stiles.”

“Lydia, um, was my ride here. And she left. With Jackson. So.”

“You look a little beaten up,” Derek says.

“Oh,” Stiles ducks his head. “Yeah. Um, Allison’s creepy grandpa… it… yeah. Well, I… I don’t know how you look.”

Wordlessly, Derek guides Stiles’ hands up to his face. Stiles traces around his hairline, over the shells of his ears, over cheekbones and the hard ridge of Derek’s nose and over the scruff on his cheeks and chin and over his lips.

“Um. Doesn’t, um. Feel too much worse for the wear. But I guess even if it had you’d have healed by now.”

Stiles drops his hands back to his sides, face a little flushed, and Derek finally understands.

A mate is supposed to make what’s good great, and cover for the parts of you that are lacking.

Stiles is not lacking. Derek knows better now. Stiles is fiercely loyal, is cunning and brave and brilliant. He’s a good planner and he’s got great instincts.

Stiles is so far from being useless that it kind of blows Derek’s mind a little bit. He makes Derek a better alpha. Challenges him, tests him, and sometimes lets him go. He comes back though, takes care of him and keeps him afloat so to speak, and that’s a gift in and of itself. That is what a mate is meant to do—make you better than you are alone.

 _I don’t love him_ , Derek thinks, _not yet._

He will though, someday. And for now Derek wants to, wants to give Stiles that, wants to keep him safe and make him happy.

But tonight isn’t the time for confessions. Tonight everyone goes home to lick their wounds and sleep as well as they can and maybe tomorrow or maybe a few days from now Derek will be able to tell Stiles the truth, and maybe Stiles will even want him back. Derek thinks maybe he could be happy and maybe Stiles might be part of that.

“I’ll take you home,” the alpha says. “Give me your hand.”

Stiles holds his right hand up and Derek takes it in his own, as gently as he knows how, and leads the way.

—

One day, Derek meets his mate. His mate is Stiles Stilinski.

It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him.


End file.
